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Friday, September 30, 2016

Once More an Incomparable

Once upon a time, there was a historical romance author. She
loved writing about the Regency period, and she loved stories that connected in
some way, so she populated her books with characters who were friends or
cousins or school acquaintances. After all, the ton, or those people in London counted to have good breeding and
taste, numbered no more than 10,000 by some estimates. Surely they knew each
other at least in passing.

She never set out to write a series. Her publisher early on
wasn’t too keen on that. When she sat down to write the next book, she simply
chose a year that made sense to the plot and looked at who else she’d already
written about who might be in that location at that time. But slowly, over the
course of ten novels and three novellas, she built a little community within
her stories.

And now, more than 15 years later, those stories are coming
back to life again, this time in the order they should have been published to
begin with and buffed to a shine.

I’m delighted to report that The Incomparable Miss Compton, the eighth Regency romance I
published, is now the second book in The Uncommon Courtships series. It follows
the story of Anne Preswick (of The
Unflappable Miss Fairchild) as she attempts to find a wife for powerful
Parliamentarian Malcolm Breckonridge. Of course he must be introduced to the
Incomparable Miss Compton, the reigning belle. But Malcolm finds he is far more
attracted to the young lady’s spinster chaperone, Miss Sarah Compton.

Here’s a peek:

“You have nothing to say to me, then, madam?” he demanded as
the dance once more sent them past each other, shoulder to shoulder. As she
took her place opposite him, her expressive eyes widened at his gruff tone. He
waited for her to pretend he had actually asked her to dance, to say anything
that would give him some idea of her game. She merely allowed the gentleman of
the second couple in their set to take her hand and lead her out, as the dance
demanded. When he approached the lady of the second couple to do the same, he
could not help but notice that she quailed under the frown that had evidently
formed on his face. He managed a grimace that would have to pass for a smile
and found himself back opposite the mysterious lady. He was rather glad to see
that they had reached the end of the line of dancers and would be standing out
for a round.

“Forgive my impertinence, my lord,“ she said as they waited
to rejoin the set. Her voice was deep for a woman. “I must thank you for not
giving me away. It was most kind of you.”

“I hope you plan to reward my kindness with an explanation,”
he replied.

She blushed again, and he found the effect even more
charming. Was she some kind of sorceress that he could not focus on his
intended interrogation?

“I shall try, my lord,” she said. “You had just been
introduced to Persephone Compton, I believe?”

He frowned, toying with the idea that she was bent on
usurping the lady in his affections. As he had not had time to form any
affections, and she was not in the lady’s league in looks, he threw the idea
off as preposterous.

“Lord Prestwick had performed the introduction as you
arrived,” he confirmed.

“May I ask why you wished to be made known to her?” she
persisted.

His frown deepened. That ought to have been enough to cause
the most ardent campaigner to desist, but she did not seem to be affected by
it. “I am not in the habit of discussing my affairs with strangers, madam.”

She gazed at him. “I imagine you must convince them to vote
your way out of sheer intimidation.”

Surprised, he could not think of an answer.

Malcolm Breckonridge, speechless. His peers would laugh
themselves sick. He was so appalled that the moment of silence stretched. As
the dance ended, she dropped a curtsey, and he remembered himself and bowed.

“Your servant, madam,” he managed. “I wish you luck.”

She laid a hand on his arm. “I fear I have been forward.
Would you take a turn about the room with me, my lord, so that I might explain
myself further?”

Malcolm stared at her. He had given her a set-down
calculated in look and manner to quell the most pretentious upstart, and she
remained focused on her purpose. Could she be the woman he sought? She
certainly had the courage to stand up to him. One could not have asked for a
more queenly consort. It was too much to hope that she be intelligent as well.
He decided it only made sense to investigate further.

He offered her his arm. “Very well. I’d like to hear how a
sensible woman like you came to invite me to dance.”

4 comments:

You know how much I love Sarah and Malcolm! The paperback is on my keeper shelf. The new cover is very pretty. I'm glad more readers can enjoy your Regency novels now. I hope the new cover draws in lots of readers and they love Sarah and Malcolm as much as Anne and Chas.